Choices
by JadeSelena
Summary: They make their own choices but they're rarely easy.


Hello, all. And by 'all' I mean the very few people who actually read Peckstein stories ;)

This is my follow-up to 2x11. Fair warning - it's kinda depressing; you can blame that on the episode, though. I have no idea where the show is going with the whole triangle but it's just painful and I hope it ends soon, whatever TPTB decide...

As usual, **I do not own the characters, I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement.**

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><p>Dov wandered into The Black Penny, wanting nothing more than a drink (or ten) to help him forget the day. If it also meant delaying the inevitable of going home to <em>casa de culpa<em> and Chris' silent condemnation then that was just a bonus. A really good one, but still just a bonus.

"Epstein!" Liam greeted him. "Heard you owned the scavenger hunt…" Oliver had been in earlier, all puffed up like a proud (slightly richer) papa.

"Yeah," Dov confirmed unenthusiastically, joining him at the bar proper. "Can I get a beer?"

Pulling the pint Liam slid it over with a smile. "This one's on the house. Congratulations, kid…"

The reward would have meant a lot more if Dov felt like he actually deserved it. As it was _how_ he'd won left him feeling sick to his stomach. "Thanks." Tipping the glass at Liam he headed off to find an empty booth in a quiet corner. He caught a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eye and knew it was Gail before he'd even turned his head. She was alone, staring into a pint of _something_, and he wondered if he should just pretend he hadn't seen her. Things had been cool between them (not cold, just cool) since the night Chris had broken up with her, and Dov understood _why_ she was keeping her distance. Didn't mean he had to like it… Taking a quick glance around he made his way over to her table. "Hey."

Gail looked up, intending to make whoever dared intrude upon her self-imposed isolation regret it. Seeing it was Dov she settled for a resigned, "Hey."

So many emotions had flashed across her face when she saw it was him that Dov had a heard time placing them all; he was almost 100% sure one of them was annoyance, though. "What are you doing here?" Alone…

She wanted to tell him it was a public place and she had as much a right to it as he did, but right then she just didn't have the energy it took to be a bitch. Or to lie. Turning her attention back to her Black Velvet she admitted, "Gathering up the courage to go home."

Dov had to swallow hard to get rid of the lump that had suddenly taken up residence in his throat. "Chris is letting you come home?"

"Yeah – _No_," Gail scoffed, fighting back a sudden onslaught of tears. "He's probably tossing the rest of my stuff out the window as we speak…" A month ago she'd never even have considered the possibility but there were a lot of things _this _Chris would do that the old one wouldn't. And she couldn't pretend she wasn't responsible for it.

When she'd said 'home' Dov had just assumed she meant the apartment; it was weird thinking of her home being anywhere else. Then again the apartment didn't really feel like much of a home at all since she'd left. Still, he couldn't help but be relieved.

Gail narrowed her eyes when he sat next to her on the bench but didn't tell him to move; side-by-side was safer than face-to-face. Nothing good ever came from her having to look at him. Trying to cover the quiver in her voice she explained tersely, "I was _talking_ about the den of oppression better known as my mother's house…" At least now she knew to start looking for a new place. It wasn't much but it the only thing she had left to hold on to.

Sipping his beer Dov admitted, "I really thought you guys were going to work it out." He wouldn't tell her he was sorry they hadn't; he'd been disingenuous enough for one day and if there was anyone he _wouldn't _lie to it was her. Not that he thought she'd believe him if he did.

So had Gail; she'd figured if she just showed Chris she had no intention of straying there was only so long he could hold something she couldn't control against her. _Wrong. _"For weeks I have turned myself inside-out, trying like hell to be understanding, patient, _diffident_." The last word was spat out like it was dirty. "You know I even resorted to talking like a street punk just to get a reaction out of him?" Not her proudest moment. Not the reaction she'd been looking for, either.

Despite the seriousness of the conversation Dov cracked a smile at the image, teasing, "Did you call him 'Homey,' too?"

Gail raised a displeased eyebrow at him before dropping it with a sigh. "I probably would have if I'd thought it would do any good." Swigging her drink she made a face at the taste, then wondered disparagingly, "Who'd have thought you'd grow a pair before I did?"

He gave her the eyebrow right back even though she had a point; she wasn't exactly known for letting anyone walk all over her. "You were trying to save your relationship…"

"But _why_?" That was the question she kept asking herself. "It's _my_ rule for Christ's sake: one break. I should have called it quits the second he threw me out but instead I've been this pathetic little puppy trying to earn back his love after peeing on the carpet…" _God_, she hated dogs. She swirled her glass to get the Guinness to mix with the cider, more violently than she needed to.

Dov put a hand on her wrist to stop her before the drink ended up all over the table. As much as he hated to he suggested, "'Cause you love him?"

Gail thought it had more to do with the guilt but there was no way she was admitting to that aloud. Brushing Dov's hand off her she deflected, "I _hate _you, you know?"

He knew she didn't mean it but it still stung. If there was one thing he _could_ say he regretted it was putting her through all this. "Gail, I'm sorry…"

Cutting off his apology with a wave of her hand she clarified, "Not for the Chris thing." Taking another gulp of mud she added, "That's not even about you. Not really." As much as she'd like to she couldn't let him blame himself for something that was all on her.

_Ouch._ If that was supposed to make him feel better it didn't. "What do you mean?"

Gail heard the hurt in his tone and realized he still had no idea what the problem _really _was. For someone so sharp he could be so dense sometimes. "It's not you – it's me," she assured him with a mocking tilt of her glass, forcing a self-deprecating smile. "Chris finally decided he doesn't have enough good in him to counteract my evil. Or the patience to put up with it anymore…" She guessed that was the story they were going with, though they both knew it wasn't the _real_ issue; it was only an issue now because he wasn't the only one spared it. And it wouldn't be an issue at all if not for what that _meant_.

No matter what she said Dov knew _he_ was the one who'd put this whole thing in motion, and he hated that it was making her doubt herself. "Gail…"

"Don't." She couldn't deal with another 'you're awesome' pep talk at the moment. She wasn't awesome, and she wasn't innocent. Even if Dov seemed to think she was. Even if she wanted to be. "I hate you for getting picked for that _stupid_ scavenger hunt…"

Well, that was unexpected. With everything else that was going on he'd thought it would be for something more… significant. "Why?"

"'Cause I _needed_ it," Gail explained with a sigh, "I needed a chance to prove I was still good at _something._" 'Cause it sure as hell wasn't relationships. Or _not_ falling for completely inappropriate people. Turning to him she confessed, "Just for today I wanted to be someone else, you know?" She might have kept the 'raving bitch' part but the 'quite possibly in love with best friends, neither of whom she deserved' part definitely would have been left at the station.

Yeah – he knew. Except he'd ended up being himself, anyway. "For what it's worth I would've switched with you."

Gail couldn't tell if he was being chivalrous or if there was a deeper meaning behind it, asking sceptically, "And be with Chris all day?" At least Chris was talking to _her_. Mostly to attack her character and call her a bed-hopping whore, but still.

"Yeah – pretty much." Chris' cold shoulder would have been a day at the beach in comparison.

He was avoiding her gaze, staring into his beer, and Gail realized that something _had_ happened. She'd heard the scavenger hunt could get pretty nasty – Steve wouldn't even talk about his – and Dov's caginess was making her think the worst. "Hey – are you okay?"

Dov didn't really want to tell her, didn't want her thinking any less of him than she already did, but he needed to tell _someone_. He wondered briefly if Chris knew that by shutting them both out he'd left them only each other to turn to. "I wanted to win; _needed_ to win." Unfortunately she wasn't the only one with something to prove. "So I _chose _to be myself…"

Okay, now she was just confused. "Are you going to elaborate on that or am I just supposed to guess?" Her tone was less harsh than the words would suggest.

"I used my brother's memory to get in good with a dealer." Dov glanced at her for a second, relieved to find her face free of scorn. "The guy was Adam's best friend." A lousy excuse for a best friend but that was besides the point. There was a lot of that going around.

Gail had never revisited the topic of Adam with Dov after finding out about it, did her damndest to avoid any conversations with him that had any emotional resonance whatsoever, but she couldn't very well close the door now that it had been opened. That one, or the much larger one that had them in this situation to begin with (and that avoiding those conversations obviously hadn't been able to keep closed). Putting a gentle hand on his arm she offered, "You want to talk about it?"

Dov's eyes moved to rest on her hand, then back to the amber liquid in his glass. "I thought I could ignore it, you know? Just shove it to the back of my mind and get through it…"

"But you couldn't…" she stated needlessly. He wouldn't be here, now, if he had.

Finally meeting her eyes Dov whispered, "No - I couldn't."

Gail's breath caught in her throat, the look on his face telling her he hadn't been talking about his brother anymore. "Dov…"

"I know," he cut off the rejection that was sure to come, turning his attention back to his beer. "But what's done is done and I couldn't change it even if I wanted to." Even if _she_ wished he could.

She was actually grateful he hadn't let her finish because in all honesty she had no idea what she would have said and probably would have ended up regretting it. Still, she had to know, "Would you?"

Dov felt more than saw her staring at him, and he didn't know what answer she expected. Or wanted. "Does it matter?" he countered softly.

His tone was so dejected that her eyes started to well up, and she turned away so he couldn't see. It _did_ matter, but telling him that wouldn't be fair when she didn't know whether or not _she _would change her feelings for him if she could. There was no reason for her to – her and Chris were undeniably over – but there was still something intangible holding her back. It might have been hope that the boys' friendship could somehow survive if she wasn't a factor, or unwillingness to prove Chris right even though she knew he was, or gut-wrenching fear that it wouldn't work out and it would be just another failure to add to her list. Any one of those would have been enough to give her pause but together they stopped her dead in her tracks. "No," she whispered hoarsely, "it doesn't matter."


End file.
